


Blindfolds and Confessions

by vkdemon



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Anonymous Sex, BDSM, Blindfolds, Light Bondage, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-09
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vkdemon/pseuds/vkdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt: <a href="http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/6968.html?thread=11523896#t11523896">glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/6968.html</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been 9 months 2 weeks and 4 days since he'd last felt the warm press of a man's body over him. He'd broken up with his boyfriend of about 6 months, another in the long line of semi-serious men who'd come into Kurt's life with good intentions and mutual interest whose flames had fizzled until eventually someone left. Kurt was an aficionado of dramatic exits, and so took it upon himself to end each one with a final performance.

 

The last had been Jeff, a man of equal height to him and slightly avant-garde tastes. It had started over Kurt's collection of tiaras and their symbolic place in the house. It had ended with Kurt ordering Jeff out like the queen bitch he was. Kurt conceded as he redecorated the apartment, that the displaying of his tiara collection in a glass illuminated case in the bedroom might have justified Jeff's anger.

 

After he had thrown Jeff unceremoniously out on his derriere, Kurt changed the entire apartment's color scheme. Kurt was a winter and Jeff had been a spring. As he no longer needed to accommodate the other man, he'd spent a good two months just on those projects. He'd dated at 3 months, but found the prospects both dull and uninspiring.

 

At 6 months he'd gone through his collection of toys and thrown out anything that wasn't to his kink and had been bought with Jeff's tastes in mind. Out went the horrifically cheesy pleather costume of a cop. Kurt never could pull off that look. Out went the pink fuzzy handcuffs. Out went the sounding rod that he'd never been able to bring himself to use no matter how many videos Jeff had made him watch, and on that note, out went those videos. Kurt sorted through the others and found one of a bondage porn with anonymous partners that he'd actually liked. That stayed. The vast scarves for tying and blindfolding and teasing of the skin also stayed. Most were his retired scarves anyway. and deserved to remain with him. Plus, they all matched his skin tone so prettily. Most of the dildos and vibrators had been his to begin with, so there was little need to throw any out. One that didn't leave, despite how many times Jeff had attempted to dispose of it, was the clone-a-cock that one of his VERY former boyfriends Harold had left. Harold had been Russian with huge cock. He'd met him in a leather bar in college. He'd been blitzed out of his mind and when he found himself against a wall with that monster pushing at him, he knew he wanted more. Unfortunately, Harold himself only lasted about 2 months into the relationship before proving that some cultural differences were impossible to surmount. His clone-a-cock, however, was one of the few toys that satisfied Kurt's more raunchy moments. It was a great thing to watch all of the men who came after compare themselves to it.

 

8 months and 3 days post Jeff, and Kurt had given up on dating. At 33, he seemed to be the end of his dating life. He scrutinized his image, finding lines of age and flaws that his moisturizing simply could not stop. He still looked like a man no older than 25, and his father's baldness thankfully hadn't been passed on to him. His chestnut hair was a bit shorter than in his younger years, but it was still thick and he usually kept it in a wild, but purposeful, up-sweep. It helped him maintain his youthful appearance. His torso was thin, his muscles defined. Yoga, pilates, cardio, and his work running here and there at top speed had kept his body in perfect shape.... well not perfect, he sighed, as he ghosted his fingers along the ever so slight cushioning on his nearly perfect stomach. Some signs of age and an adoration for tiramisu simply could not be gotten rid of.... Thankfully he was pulled away from his scrutiny by the arrival of his family who'd flown in to San Fransisco to be with him. Burt, Carole, Finn, Rachel and the twin demon nieces were enough to distract him for the week they would stay. He was very happy to see the whirlwind leave, but he also ached at the empty apartment.

 

At the 9 month and 5 hour mark, he found himself sitting on his bed on his laptop, scanning his entire porn collection. Now he didn't own a lot of porn, but he'd watched almost all of them about a million times in his longest ever stint without a boyfriend. His eyes ghosted over the video he'd saved from Jeff. He let it play, watching the blindfolded, tied and gagged twink be taken over and over by faceless nameless men who just used his body. He came almost painfully around his silicone bend. When he'd recovered he started searching for more of the same idea: anonymous hook-ups. By happenstance, he found a location in the city where he lived that offered the real thing.

 

9 months and 1 week after he'd become single again, he looked up all the reviews he could find on the supposed 'bathhouse'.

 

9 months, 1 week and 5 days of celibacy, and he had made an appointment and read through every advice column he could find. At 9 months 2 weeks and 1 day he faxed his STD test results proving he was clean along with a list of what he wanted and absolutely did not want. At 9 months, 2 weeks, and 2 days, he was faxed the STD clean bill of health for a man whose name was blacked out as per the agreement of anonymity, as well as the list check marked in each item to prove the man read and understood all of his comfort levels. A masculine and slightly jagged scrawl made a few notes as to specifications. One was an insistence that his partner have cleaned out his passage thoroughly before engaging, another was he have handled intrusion of at least 8 inches and at least a 6 inch circumference. Kurt was surprised, and after okaying the demands with his own checks, he had to frantically masturbate. Thank Gaga for Harold.

 

9 months 2 weeks and 4 days since he'd had sex, and he was about to do so with a complete stranger who he'd never know the name or the face of. He bit down on his plump lower lip as he paced the very elegant Victorian room. He had to admit the bathhouse was of the highest quality. The fees were high as far as these type of services went according to his internet searches, but they also were the most trusted and high class. All of the staff had been courteous and unobtrusive, just on the edge of beautiful so as to not detract from their clientele. They had shown him where the water, sports drinks, and protein-high refreshments were for afterward. They also assured him that everything was confidential. He was given a safe word that the security system would pick up should he wish to stop the session at any time. The other client also knew the word. So that was it... He was given time alone to examine the room and make sure he was satisfied. He was so nervous, he was perspiring profusely!

 

One of the ever so polite and professional female staff had helped him into the restraints. He'd spent an hour cleaning and shaving his body before arriving, and another hour preparing his entrance. He was now blindfolded by an elegant scarlet silk scarf that accented his porcelain skin tone perfectly. He could see nothing, not even motion.

 

His hands were tied with matching scarlet scarves to the posts on the deep rosewood headboard. The massive bed had enough room for four men of about Finn's size. As the wedge pillow was placed under his back to support his jutting hips and wide stretched anus, he abruptly strangled all thoughts of his step-brother. That was so not the image he wanted when he was about to be fucked by an unknown stranger. Oh Prada! He was about to give up all of his power to some random man with an apparently massive cock. He'd never even had a one-night stand! He could feel his heartbeat racing. The staff woman left, and soon it was just him and the silence. It could have been five minutes, it could have been an hour.

 

9 months 2 weeks and 4 days since he'd last been touched his ex-boyfriend and suddenly the sound of the heavy wooden door opening and then shutting was enough for Kurt to go from limp to semi-erect instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

It had all started with a twink. It was the story of Dave Karofsky's gay life. One day back in high school, when Dave's closet resembled a panic room with steel doors and survival rations, a beautiful thin boy had strutted by in the tightest most tormenting jeans. His life had never been the same since. He'd added extra fortifications, trenches of denial, barbed wire of anger and Gatling guns of homophobic slurs. Somehow he'd still come around to kissing those pink soft lips in that frantic locker-room fiasco. He'd no longer been able to deny inside of his body and heart what he was and what he wanted. He'd kept his head down and gotten out of school with a scholarship for academics and a half-semester worth of AP credits to boost him through school. Once he had his degree in criminal justice, he'd bolted for the gayest place on earth, San Francisco, and became a cop.

 

The next man to shake him up had been on the heavier side of the spectrum. He was older then Dave by a few years and ran the little video rental place across from his apartment. He knew everyone in town's dirty little secret, including exactly what kind of porn Dave rented. In Dave's bag, as he returned home, he found a website scrawled on the back. It had been a month before he’d looked at it. He'd found a mecca, a ritzy upscale place that specialized in anonymity. He saved up and triple checked their policy and the law. It wasn't prostitution because both parties were willing. There were signed contracts agreeing to each party's actions and all of the names were kept hidden. He could satisfy his desires and not worry about it interfering with his job or his life.

 

An average looking man of about 30 was his first time. He'd had dark hair and a little gap in his teeth, but had kind eyes. He'd known Dave was a virgin, it was all in the contract. Everything was set up to be vanilla and Dave stipulated that he be in control the entire time. The man had taken him with such care and gentleness that Dave had broken down in tears when, his face sticky with cum, the man with kind eyes had told him he was good and handsome. They had exchanged blow-jobs and cuddled for the rest of their time. He'd always consider that his first time having sex, and he couldn't have imagined a better one.

 

The One That Ran Away had a long, lean, runner's build and a fringe of blond bangs over blue eyes. Dave found himself attracted immediately. The blond had spread himself on the bed and told Dave to get him ready. Dave knew from the contract this would be his first time doing anal. He had tried to look things up but it seemed a difficult process. The blond had eventually pushed his hands away and done it himself. Dave sat on the edge of the bed, shamed by his lack of ability and the man's irritation at him. Finally, when it was time, he dropped his pants to the floor. The One That Ran Away screamed in shock and leaped from the bed toward the door. Now Dave had never thought of himself as a freak since high school. He was big, sure, huge shoulders, tall, a sizable gut, if you asked him, despite the muscles under it. He had thick legs and tree trunk arms that had been something the other men had petted and adored. This man began hissing obscenities and accusing Dave of all sorts of perversions. After, the man left him with a new vocabulary to google including size-queen, monster-cock, and sadism. He found only two of the three applied. He'd barely had the energy to drive home. Since that terrible time he's made sure of two things: if his partner wanted anal they would prep themselves and they would know what lay in wait for them. He didn't need to go through any more week-long depressions.

 

It was four men later before Dave stopped apologizing for his size the second he walked into the room. The Fem had brought this out of him. When he'd first entered the room, he thought he was in the wrong place. An elegant sleek figure in a waist corset and billowy cream bodice sat on the bed with long legs delicately crossed under a long flowing skirt. The Fem had smiled at his shock and leaned in to insist he'd like it. When he attempted to apologize and tell her he only liked dicks, she informed him with a smirk that she could provide. He was thick enough to assume she meant a strap on. She's stuck his hand up her skirt to wrap around the warm masculine organ.  When he'd finally been encouraged to drop trou, she'd bowed to his manhood and gotten him very swiftly over his worry of its size. The Fem, as he'd taken to calling 'her' once he'd been instructed on how to properly address a trans person, started to organize their meetings together. He adored their time together. They were off and on lovers for almost 5 months before she disappeared one day. He knew from a few brief conversations that she was planning on starting over in a new city, a place where she could apply for the job as herself instead of living the duality of playing a man at work. He hoped she found that place, found a man who appreciated her. Though they had never spoken of their pasts, he knew her high school experience had to be worse than his. A few weeks after, he'd called his parents and come out. His father had informed him not to come home for Christmas, but to call them to let them know he was alive. It was better than he feared as a teen.

 

He scanned over the list of candidates he was matched with and found one that requested a big strong man who could make it rough. Make It Hurt was a man of medium build whose pressed and formal business suit hung so perfectly in the corner, it made Dave wonder if he was a politician. He was a man of power and influence, it was clear by the expensive haircut and perfectly elegant grayed temples. Dave had been given simple instructions, remove the man's power and give it over roughly. There were a few basic guidelines of not talking much and a safe-word. There was something thrilling and magical about watching such a clearly in charge person break apart under his body. Make It Hurt had been extremely vocal, repeating over and over his need for roughness and pain. By the end Dave was sweating more than any workout. Make It Hurt had hissed and squirmed afterward and said one simple thing to Dave before leaving to shower. "You're too gentle. Next time trust your partner to say when it's too much."

 

He'd been with a few others, in bondage or not, before he met with Freckles. This man had pale skin dotted with round splotches of tan spots. He'd had pale blond hair and laughing blue eyes that made Dave's knees go weak. Their time had been filled with jokes and laughing. He'd bottomed, not for the first time, but for the first time if felt like something good. He'd clung to the man, using his strong arms to trap Freckles. He'd asked him on a date... And with those smiling blue eyes Freckles had turned him down. Dave really should have expected it, but he still felt lonely, he felt lost, wondering how his life had become having anonymous sex instead of a boyfriend. He swore off the bathhouse.

 

Something about a specific e-mail from the bathhouse informing him he had a match drew him. He opened the MS Word document of specifications and found himself grinning. Who even used the curly script options anyway? He found a prim and proper, detailed list of demands and stipulations. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had been notarized. It even ended in 'Sincerely'. He immediately dubbed this man Fancy and decided to he would have one last go at the scene. He'd printed out the list and made a mark at each item as the instructions indicated. He added his usual line about his size and decided he was going to have fun.

 

He arrived at the correct time and was stalled chatting with one of the girls he knew. He figured it was rude not to be friendly to the workers. This was just a job for them, and a nod or a kind word might make someone's world better. His watch beeped to tell him it was time and he walked off. The door he came to was one of the very nice suites with a full bath, if he remembered correctly. Fancy indeed. The door shut heavily behind him.

 

A vision lay on the bed, pale skin over a nearly hairless body. The angel had skin like porcelain, twin pink nipples perked upward. His chest was lean and muscled as his hips flared ever so slightly more than a man's ought to. His pubic hair was waxed into a neat triangle. He was more than happy to see the soft brown whisps over his balls were still there. Complete removal of hair always made him nervous for the man's age. He groaned deeply seeing the gaping pink entrance of his ass, open, waiting, twitching at him, asking him to enter the pale temple and worship. He looked like Kurt, like that first beautiful boy. He gazed over those long legs, suddenly they pressed together, ankles crossing primly. Dave tried to shake the image clear. It couldn't be him.

 

"I'd just like you to know that I've never engaged in these kinds of activities with a stranger before and I'm not some kind of boy toy or slut. I've always been in steady established relationships...just so you know." That voice, that prim proper high voice that could sound so masculine and so feminine, spoke to him. He almost laughed. Only Kurt could make himself sound prudish while tied to the headboard with his ass gaping. Dave tongued his cheek nervously. What if Kurt found out? He'd hate him all over again.. he'd... His cock twitched! Holy hell! Hummel's pretty, thin cock twitched toward hardness. He was...god he wanted to touch the boy. Dave looked to the blindfold. He couldn't see. And if he couldn't see, then he'd have a good time, he'd be able to give Kurt a wonderful time and be able to fulfill a high school fantasy. He reached out hesitantly, still fully dressed and tentatively touched Kurt's crossed knee. He watched in amazement as they fell open revealing his elegant length again.  



	3. Chapter 3

Kurt's legs jumped apart as he felt the touch of something very warm against his knee. It was... a hand? It was slightly callused and thus had a rough texture. So this was the man... He could feel his body begin to tremble. What was he doing? Was it even a he? It could be anyone, simply anyone touching him. It could be a woman or an elderly man with sun cracked face and tanned skin that had wrinkled with age far before his years. The man could be a midget or have tattoos on his eyelids!

The warmth of what Kurt thought might be a hand stroked up his thigh, almost too lightly.

The goose-flesh on Kurt's thigh raised as he let out a breathy gasp. The man (because really what woman had hands that big?) hadn't made a sound over the soft in and out of his breathing. Kurt tried to imagine this man. From what he could feel from the man softly petting his thigh, the hand was huge. It covered half of his thigh from fingertip to the heel of his palm. His mind attempted to conjure what this man might look like. He knew the look of his handwriting, strong, masculine... So maybe a square jaw, a broad set of shoulders... and an enormous horse cock. Oh Prada! He was being caressed by Tom Cruise's head on top of a massive penis. It looked like one of those ancient Grecian statuses...what were they called? A priapus! He was going to die!

"Not to be too much of a bother, but I can barely feel your hand and I'm not exactly sure how these encounters go but I do believe there was to be sexual... intercourse of a rather.. impassioned nature." Kurt cursed his tendency to retreat into nearly Victorian prudish manners when nervous. "I'm assuming that you should be doing more." Kurt thought he heard a grunt from the direction of the man who was obviously weighted down by his giant dong. Well that was... rude? It was rather difficult to tell when you had only a disembodied voice to go by. At least the voice sounded male, if the single syllable in a deeper register was enough to go on. That hand left his thigh and reappeared on his shoulder. His shoulder-cap, and then collarbone were softly traced. Kurt could not repress the shudder, the shudder which loosened his voice again to chatter forward.

"It's been 9 months, 2 weeks and 4 days since I've had sex," he blurted into the air. Instantly, his cheeks matched the scarlet scarf over his eyes. "Not to say I'm a prude, I am tied to a bed with a contract about to be taken by a man I don't know. I just... " That hand petted over his throat, as if commanding his voice to continue. "I've been without a partner for that long. So I'm just... eager for sex. It's perfectly natural to be eager, perfectly normal to have desire for sex. I mean, I'm not a sex-hawk or anything unusual..." The male voice chuckled, his voice deep and soft. "Sorry that's a strange term. It was a friend of mine... he called himself sex hawk... because of... why am I talking about him?"

Suddenly his chest was petted and he jolted. His heart jumped into his throat. He wasn't supposed to be touching there, his hand was on Kurt's pale throat. Oh...right. Two hands. Oh Gaga! One was now stoking his neck and the other dragging two (?) fingers down his chest... No, it didn't quite feel right. The callused warmth petted each rib, then circled the flesh around his nipples. That was one finger... oh Gaga that thick warm thing teasing his flesh was a single finger. What would it be like to feel that thick digit pressing at the tight ring of muscle at his ass? Would he be painstakingly slow, tormenting and gentle? Would he be impatient and go too fast, mixing pain and pleasure and the unending feeling of fullness? "You must be huge." Gaga his mind must be gone! "Really big... broad. I always wanted a man like that. I mean my boyfriends are usually like me, on the thinner side. I only had one boyfriend who could pick me up, and I used to love for him to just grab me and ravage me. We never really got to that stage, exactly."

The hands suddenly left his body without having touched his nipples. Kurt arched toward where the warmth had been, letting out a whine and then a frustrated huff. "Are you here to fuck me or not?!" As previous lovers would have told the mystery man, Kurt got demanding and bitchy when he was teased. A low rumble of a frustrated grunt came from the man no longer touching him with those huge hands. Kurt strained his ears and the loud clang of what could only be a belt buckle hitting the floor brought the surreal situation back to the present. Oh Gaga his pants were off. This was real. He was about to be fucked by a stranger, a stranger who never spoke! Was he mute?! "You could at least let me know what you're going to do...."


	4. Chapter 4

"You could at least let me know what you're going to do...." Kurt's voice brought him from his attention on Kurt's body. Really, had Kurt been this bad in high school? Dave might have a faulty remembrance of high school, but Kurt was never this bad... right? That same voice screaming at him in a locker room assaulted his mind. Okay, maybe he had been.

 

Dave stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side. He watched Kurt's plump pretty mouth press together in annoyance at his lack of response. Dave used to watch that mouth, used to stare and in his boyish dreams had imagined them telling him beautiful things, soft gentle declarations of love, of adoration. He'd kept more than one hero complex dream in there where Kurt would be hoisted into his arms and whisper his thanks and his adoration for his big strong protector. Kurt's voice ripped through his thoughts.

 

"If you refuse to do this properly then I am leaving." Dave's body, already aroused and twitching at the beautiful pale man lying before him, throbbed in response to the sound of Kurt's demanding bitchy voice. So maybe there was a very good reason that he'd kissed Kurt in that locker room other than the crush he'd been sporting for nearly two years. He loved hearing Kurt's bitchy angry voice.

 

David's broad hand gave him what Kurt demanded. He pressed two fingers into Kurt's lubed and stretched hole. He couldn't help the small grin at the sudden surge of Kurt's hips and the wordless scream from his lips. Then the talking started again. "Gaga! Yes, finally! Come on big man fuck me. That can't be you, that's tiny."

 

Dave wondered if all of Kurt's lovers invested in a gag. Kurt was just plain nasty. Maybe they just obeyed instantly, dropped down to their knees before the princess and worshiped. Not a bad idea. Dave removed his finger and eased himself slowly to the floor, careful not to make a sound. He leaned forward and took a nice long lick from his lightly dusted heavy balls that immediately jumped at the contact along the elegant reddened length to swipe the glistening bead of precum from his tip. The reaction was beautiful.

 

Kurt's hips came fully off the wedge pillow, his spine a bow of tension, the muscles in his pale smooth calves twitching at the sudden strain. Oh, the things that could be done with that strength and flexibility! Dave shuddered pleasurably. "Stop teasing me!" Kurt's voice was shrill against his ears.

 

Was he teasing? Dave wanted Kurt to feel good, but there was more than that. He stood, each hand petting the muscles on the inside of his quivering thighs. He wanted Kurt to feel the most pleasure he'd ever felt. He could wind the man so tight that when he finally came it would cause him to black-out, to touch heaven, to see stars.... to never forget Dave. His hands took up a trail up to his hips, over his ribs, trying to impress all of this man into his memory. He could only hope and pray Kurt would remember him. It's all he'd ever wanted.

 

His fingers rolled both pink nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, watching the writhing and storing each cry of pleasure in his memory. Kurt would remember him, never be able to forget this night as the best sex he'd ever had. He wanted Kurt to know how much he was loved, how beautiful he was. His hands left the nipples, petting the sharp angles of Kurt's pale collarbone before cupping his cheeks. His hand spanned the entire side of Kurt's face, just like it had all those years ago. He leaned forward, his lips seeking toward... ow!

 

He grabbed his hands away, staring at the red circle of pain on the meaty flesh of his palm. Kurt was talking again. "Don't kiss me! I made you sign you could not and would not kiss me! No one kisses me!" The little bitch had bitten him! All Dave was trying to do was make love to him.....

 

Dave backed away from Kurt, his hand slamming into the large post on the corner of the bed. His voice rang out through the room, that pained animalistic breaking of his heart. It had only happened three times in his life. Once, in the locker-room when Kurt had pushed him away and stared at him like he was some disgusting insect. Second, with Freckles who had smiled while he rebuffed Dave's honest appeal for more of a connection then just sex. And now, again, with Kurt rejecting his touch.

 

A low guttural growl ripped from him as he pulled his shirt off, completely bare now. Kurt Hummel only wanted a rough angry fuck from him? Fine. He was good at getting angry. What did he owe Kurt anyway? Nothing. Kurt was in control of everything, always had been. Dave knocked the pillow from under Kurt's hips, the countertenor's hips hitting the mattress. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Dave grabbed Kurt's waist, lifting him like he was a rag doll, and slammed his full length into Kurt, his hips smacking hard against Kurt's pelvic bone. Kurt screamed in what might be pleasure and what might be pain. In that moment he didn't care. He had shut up the mouthy bitch.  



	5. Chapter 5

Kurt screamed in pain as he suddenly breached. He prepared himself well, mindful of every single clause in the contract that he'd drafted. Thankfully, the man remained still. Kurt could feel a ringing of tenderness from his pelvic bone and knew that first thrust had set bruises that would appear a few hours after their session. He tried not to move, he tried not to breathe. The strength and power the mystery man had over him was suddenly very real. Why had he been so insistent to get on with it?  
   
He could hear the heavy panting of the man in him, a harsh growling sound that didn't quite match the pained scream from moments earlier. Kurt had angered him, he'd pissed off the man who so easily held his body under his control. What the hell was he doing here? He wanted sex, just sex, pure free of emotion.  
   
When the man had cupped his cheeks he'd felt a rush that had nothing to do with physical need. Kissing was intimate, something greater and deeper then just this room. He'd had boyfriends that he'd never allowed to kiss him. Kisses were sacred, something pure and perfect that he'd never allow to be cheapened again. As the man shifted Kurt's mouth opened in a low groan. It still sent sparks of pain, but the pleasure of heat filling his body was what he'd been throbbing for since he'd stumbled on that website almost 2 weeks ago. He still felt exposed, hell he was exposed. He felt his mouth open again, a lifetime of sarcasm insulating him against the world which was hard to break past. "I was starting to think you lied about even having a penis." He knew his voice was less confident this time, breathy from the length pressed inside of his body.  
   
The man in him growled out again, that dark sound shutting down his lungs. Maybe he should have just let the man take it at his own pace. It wouldn't be the first time his lover had complained about his bedroom manner. Kurt shut his eyes under the blindfold, as if it would do any good, or make the situation any better. He was a good lover. Men flocked to him, begged him to let them spend one night against his porcelain skin... But then they had called him cold, frigid, boring. He hissed in a pain that had nothing to do with the heat inside of him. So what if he was demanding? They wanted his image, a beautiful pale flawless man. Why was it his fault that what they found in the bedroom had the same biting words, the same walls of protection? It wasn't Kurt's fault they were disappointed, like the man with him probably was.. obviously was.

The hands on his hips shifted, one meaty forearm wrapping under his waist, effortlessly holding him up. Kurt wrapped his long legs around the hips pressed so tightly to him. He locked his ankles behind his hips and groaned. He could feel the muscles moving under skin. His mental image was filling out. The guy had to be some kind of jock, professional athlete, or firefighter.  No one had that kind of strength without working at it. Kurt's almost flaccid cock twitched and began to fill. A man strong enough to just take him, it was a very dirty little thrill of his. The man thrust and Kurt moaned loudly.

The insistent thrusts brought sensations running through Kurt. He let his head fall back as he fell into the harsh powerful thrusts. A man who could take him, who could dominate and control him. He groaned out. "Yes.. Oh Gaga, yes. Harder, come on harder!"

Kurt's hands curled around the scarves that bound his wrists. He held onto them as he was pulled and pushed with the man hammering into him. His whole body moved with each thrust as those huge hands on his hips controlled his body. He screamed, words rolling from his mouth as the ever so slight tilt in angle brought the tip of his mystery man's cock brushing roughly over his prostate with every time. "More, please! Fuck me, dammit -  make me feel it!" He felt like a wanton, writhing as he was pounded. "Come on hamhock, pound me." And suddenly the man stopped. Kurt made a very high pitched whine at the sudden stop of the pleasure. "Dammit!"

The countertenor thrashed angrily,  making his body move on the man. "Don't stop! Come on what's wrong? Just pound me like you should be. What more do I have to say?!"


	6. Chapter 6

What the fuck?! All motion stopped. He didn't hear Kurt's protests or whines. Hamhock... the old insult... the old nickname that rang out from his past. Kurt knew! How could he know? What had Dave possibly done? He was gentle at first.. but Kurt hadn't wanted him. He didn't smell like he did... maybe? He was sweating and he used the same Old Spice body wash as he always had. Dave could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Kurt knew, oh God he'd hate Dave. He'd just proven he was still that angry, scared boy.

 

Dave's large body slumped forward, his chest pressing against Kurt's skin. The pale flesh was heated from their actions, that blush had slid down Kurt's chest. Dave needed to make this up to him, needed to prove he would be more. His mouth pressed a needy desperate line of wet kisses over Kurt's collarbone. He couldn't talk, what could he possibly say? I'm Dave Karofsky, the man who made your life a living hell. I'm Dave Karofsky, the man that ran you out of your school and away from all of your friends.

 

Kurt was talking again, his hips rocking, drawing an involuntary groan from Dave's lips. "Please...don't stop now. Just fuck me. Why did you stop then? Look I know I'm shit in bed so just fuck me out, get it over with."

 

I'm Dave Karofsky, I'm the man who never thought he would get a chance to touch you. He knew the tears were beginning, his eyes squinting trying to keep them in. His thick manhood was buried deep in Kurt and tears fell onto that perfect collarbone. He should have told Kurt, should have just let him know... He should never have been so selfish as to touch Kurt...

 

"Please just continue." Kurt's voice broke, his body strung out on desire, on the needy clawing arousal that Dave had created. Dave had made his voice like that. I'm Dave Karofsky, the man who made you beg.

 

This wasn't about him. This was about Kurt, this was Kurt's fantasy, Kurt's rules and what he wanted. So Dave obeyed. He began to rock his hips into the smaller man, searching for the spot that made Kurt scream. He thrust over and over into it, the tight hot cavern of pleasure dragging him in each time. He growled as he felt his pleasure build. He wanted this, but this was not about him. His pace was not as punishing, but it was just as passionate as before. Kurt's legs had unhooked from his waist, and Dave's broad hand petted from his ass to along the outer thigh, down to his knee, the skin so soft and smooth he could hardly believe Kurt was male. He placed that leg over his shoulder. His head turned to press and lick and suck on the skin beside his neck as he kept pounding away inside Kurt.

 

I'm Dave Karofsky, the man who's fucking your brains out. Kurt's voice was a rolling wail of high pitched screams and low deep grunts. The hand not holding Kurt's leg pressed its palm flat over Kurt's heart. He could feel the beat of it, could feel it matching the strong rapid pulse running through Dave. I'm Dave Karofsky, the man who loves you.

 

Suddenly, the man under him shuddered, his muscles clenching hard around him. Kurt screamed, his beautiful elegant red cock shooting seed across his pale stomach, a splatter hitting Dave's arm. Dave's hips stopped, stilling completely as he pressed his eyes tightly together to stop himself from following Kurt down into that blissful oblivion. I'm Dave Karofsky, the man who doesn't deserve to be in your body.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt knew he'd screamed, he knew his body had tensed every muscle, he knew his semen was now spread over his chest. All of this things he knew, but he didn't experience any of them. He saw flashes of light and dots of color and something wonderful that brought pleasure so intense, that coming down from it was like floating through a different existence filled with only warm happy things. The warmth of his tingling nerves, the press of the hand over his heart, anchored Kurt to reality, guiding him back down into his body.

 

Kurt's breath gently eased from his body as his heart-rate began to slow. He could feel the tingling soreness of his tonsils from screaming. He took stock of his body, his wrists hurt from the pulling and tugging of his bindings, but it was a dull ache and easily ignored. The blindfold had been jostled from the rough wonderful fucking, and was beginning to slip toward his nose, tickling it. He could feel his heart beating under the wide palm pressed to his chest, to his heart. He thought he could feel the man's heartbeat travel through him, connecting them. Kurt really should shut down these thoughts, but he was floating in happiness, and was content to take the random placement of the stranger's hand as a sign of tenderness and affection.

 

Kurt's hips were tender, the strong hands of the stranger had left marks deep into his skin. His left leg was still lifted up over the chest and shoulder of the man. He could feel soft chest hair tickling at his bare waxed legs. The shoulder he was hooked over was broad, and he could feel the tension in the heavy muscles of it. This was a very strong, large man. Hamhock hadn't been so inaccurate of a name. Of course he had stopped... Maybe he'd hit on a sore subject, an old taunt. Everyone had ghosts of the past haunting them.

 

Kurt's inventory of his physical state moved on to the now relaxed muscles in his ass. He felt that thick, long cock still in him, still stiff. The man hadn't gotten off. All the happy floating feelings mixed with shame and disappointment. He wasn't even able to get the man off. What was so wrong with him that even when his body was given over to the rough pounding that was instinctual to men, he couldn't get his lover to orgasm?

 

"Thank you," he said softly, sadly. "You know you can just go ahead and use my ass for as long as it takes for you to get off. I'm not a very good lay. Do.. do you mind untying my hands first? They're a little raw..."

 

The man over him fumbled, immediately reaching for his wrists, causing his deep-seated cock to thrust forward. Kurt couldn't help the small groan as the motion sent a muted tremor through him. Soon his hands were released. He hissed in pain as he brought his hand down. Those big, warm, masculine hands took his wrist and brought it up. Gentle kisses were placed on the raw skin, as if the man was apologizing. "I was the one doing all the pulling." Kurt said, unsure why he felt like he needed to reassure the other man.

 

Those huge, warm hands gently massaged his wrists, as if he wasn't still buried in the heat and tightness of Kurt. He blinked, feeling a gentle wetness of tears. How was this man so gentle? Why wasn't he just hammering away and getting out of this situation as fast as possible? Kurt blinked away the moisture still hidden under the blindfold. It was safe, not knowing who this man was. Kurt would never call himself impulsive, despite what his friends would say to the contrary, so when he surged up to wrap his arms around the man's thick neck he surprised himself.

 

Kurt could feel his breath ghosting over his face, the scent of tick-tacks making Kurt's lips pull in a smile. How civilized that the man had thought of his breath when going on an anonymous, sexy romp. Kurt tried to push away the bitchy protective firewall that was crawling back into his thoughts. He didn't want to think like that, not right now, not when he felt something pulling him. He shouldn't feel connected, but the touches, the gentleness and the teasing matched with the raw sexuality. He kissed the man.

 

His lips were warm and slightly chapped from manly activities. He smelled of Old Spice and sweat and something very familiar. Electric awareness shot through his spine as random sparks of information pushed at his brain. The strong masculine scrawl that resembled a similar scrawl that decorated the McKinley High Yearbook picture of the glee club, the man's teasing, almost reverent attention to Kurt's body when he came in, the chuckle over the term sex-hawk, that pained sound when Kurt had bit him and denied him a kiss, his refusal to speak, his reaction to Hamhock.... this kiss.

 

The kiss didn't last more than a few seconds, but the almost inaudible grateful moan hit the nail in the coffin of the realization. "Dave Karofsky?" Kurt whispered in shock as he pulled the blindfold off to see the wide flashing hazel eyes of the man who, for years he'd feared, for years he had hated. He had to admit that even sweaty and flushed, the years had been very kind to Dave Karofsky.


	8. Chapter 8

Those haunting aquamarine eyes bore into him. They stripped away the years of experience, the coming-out, the police training, his control over his emotions, everything that he was and left only a closeted boy with a crush he couldn't come to peace with. He felt 17 again, his hands shaking, fearing any words from those beautiful lips would destroy everything he thought was important in his life. He tongued his cheek, panicking. He opened his mouth to explain but nothing came out.

He was still in Kurt. Oh God! He was still inside Kurt. He moved back, trying to pull out and not drop Kurt and scramble away as fast as possible. It ended up with Kurt letting out a shocked 'eek' and gripping hard into his neck and shoulders. This meant that Dave backing away only caused Kurt to come with him off the bed. The post-orgasmic body clenching his legs around his hips, his ass also clenching around Dave's cock. He whimpered and dropped to one knee as the pleasure rolled through his body swiftly followed by shame.

"Woah, slow down!" Kurt cried as he jostled against Dave.

He needed to get out of there. He needed to get away from Kurt and all of the horrible things he'd done. How fucking stupid could he be? Of course Kurt would find out, of course he would be upset. Dave's eyes began to fill with tears as he tried to dislodge the clinging boy. His panic caused his arousal to soften, slipping from Kurt's warm ass. The man clinging to him choked out a sob. Shit Kurt was hurt.

Dave pressed at Kurt's thighs, trying to get him to let go. He could feel the tears slipping from his eyes as he attempted to get Kurt away from him. He couldn't help but wonder why life continued to repeat the worst themes. Once again, he'd taken something intimate from Kurt and hurt him in the process. How was he any different now than in high-school? "I'm so so..." Suddenly a pain burst over his cheek. His eyes that had closed in his grief snapped open in shock. Kurt had slapped him?!

"Don't you dare ruin this by saying that." Kurt bit out, finally beginning to untangle himself. "Dave... I can't believe it's you. Of all the people..."

"Last person you wanted to see right? I'll just get my clothes and go." Dave crossed his arm over his stomach, trying to hide the not abs that he was cursed with. He was muscled, but his body simply would not chisel his stomach.

"Last person I expected... Why are you dressing? I just got to look you over. You've had plenty of time with me."

Dave stilled, looking slowly back to Kurt. He saw those beautiful eyes shine in a deep green that came from his pupils' dilation. It was a look of lust, and it sent a shudder of anticipation through him, his cock making a valiant effort to regain interest. He watched Kurt's eyes roam over his body and couldn't help but picture himself: fat, big, too rough, too sweaty.... But somehow that's not what Kurt's eyes were saying. They were looking over him like he was some rare treat, something Kurt wanted to enjoy and taste. His cock twitched, standing out from his body proudly.

"I'd say life has done you well, David. You're quite handsome." Kurt stood and walked slowly around him, one long pale finger against his plump lips. Dave couldn't help but shiver, "Tall,  broad, muscled...." When Kurt pinched his ass, he jumped. When that hand pet up his spine, he trembled.

"Kurt... God.." He couldn't help but breathe the words. "Please."

"What do you want?" Dave couldn't quite believe the words. Kurt was asking him what he wanted?

"You... please, anything, just let me... I mean you could just stand there looking like that and I'd be happy, so happy." He stammered the words out, overwhelmed that Kurt thought him worthy of a second look, that he wasn't ripping his balls off for daring to touch him.

"That's not in the contract." Dave's face fell, hearing those words. The contract... Fuck! He'd broken so many of the rules already. Seriously, how was he expected to follow that list? There were like 60 of them.

"I'm not supposed to talk... right... Fuck..."

Kurt's eyes went wide, having forgotten the whole time that he was the one keeping Dave from speaking. He groaned and rubbed his temple. "I forgot that one. It was put in there out of a fear of getting a man with a voice that would make me limp. Vocal traits are very important to my arousal. I'm not having trouble now that you are talking however. Are you sure that's all you want? Just to look at me?"

Dave thinks he sees a flutter of sadness cross Kurt's face. Why would Dave wanting to just admire his gorgeous body cause that? "Really Kurt I'm up for anything."

"Careful what you wish for." Dave had the intelligence to be a little afraid.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt needed to prove a few things to David, he needed to prove a few things to himself. First, was that David really was a changed man. It had been years since high school, and clearly David was a different person. The man he knew would have never spoken like Kurt was some kind of pedastled Adonis. Kurt tried not to be bitter about the comparison. It was just like every other man. He was a lovely image... Dave Karofsky was going to learn he was much more than that.

     
"Get on the bed," he said firmly, a thrill of confidence shooting through him as Dave scrambled to comply. Kurt found himself smiling gently at the eagerness. What did Dave think he would do if he didn't comply? Okay, those were dirty thoughts, bad dirty thoughts involving slapping Dave's ass until it glowed. Maybe later.  
   

Kurt sauntered forward, crawling up onto the bed, his body the perfect slow, seductive shift of shoulders and grace. He'd practiced this part time and time again. He was confident in his image, and given the swift rise and fall of David's broad chest, he liked it. Kurt had one hand on Dave's broad chest, the other was against the headboard that Dave had sat up against. He leaned over the big man, quirking that perfect, practiced, seductive lick of his lips, polished like the performance it was. A shaky breath rushed from Dave. The larger man's hands fisted in the sheets to keep himself from surging up to take control of Kurt. Kurt would not be opposed to that in the least. It would take some of the pressure off of what to do next.

     
The countertenor purred, knowing his voice was his other advantage. "David. Do you want to touch me?" The only part of their bodies that was actually connected was Kurt's hand on Dave's haired chest. The big man nodded enthusiastically. Kurt spoke again. "Do you want to feel my cock against you?" Again Dave's response was nodding, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

 

Kurt smiled wickedly and hovered over Dave, their skin never touching beyond the one hand, but Kurt could feel the heat from his skin. He hovered, waiting for Dave to take him, to lose control. Most men already would have him flipped on his back and either be filling his mouth or rutting against him. He looked into Dave's eyes finding them a darker shade of brown as their pupils were blown wide. Clearly, he wanted what Kurt was offering, but he stayed still. Kurt traced his fingertips off Dave's chest and over his shoulder-cap. They fluttered over his thick jutting bicep. The muscle he found was huge, the arm as thick as his upper thigh. He was gripping the headboard so hard that Kurt wouldn't have been surprised if he splintered the wood in his hand.

 

Kurt took his time exploring Dave's body. There were so many muscles and so much hair. He petted each arm, taking in the way they flexed and the muscles jumped out toward him as if eager to be touched. He'd always admired men with muscles, not body builders. No, he liked muscles made for use, from hard labor on a farm, or construction, or on a mechanic. They were made from hard work, sweat, and necessity. His fingertips reached Dave's jumping abdominals. He didn't have a six-pack like a lot of built men, but the muscle under the skin was a mass of solid strength. A shudder of desire started in his groin when his hands petted the treasure trail painting those muscles. There was an answering shudder from the man under him.

 

"Please." Kurt almost didn't recognize the shuttering whine of Dave's voice. "Please."

 

"Please what, David? I can't give you want you want unless you say it." Kurt felt all-powerful, this big man trembling and begging him. He was doing something right this time.

 

"Let me touch you?" Kurt hadn't been aware he'd set down a rule against it. He must be very intimidating indeed.

 

"I'm yours." He breathed against Dave's ear.


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm yours." Kurt's words were what he had always wanted to hear, what he had always longed  
for. His teen fantasies had involved those words and Kurt confessing things that could only  
belong in a Lifetime film.  
      
Dave surged up, capturing Kurt's beautiful mouth in a kiss. There had always been a pull, the  
magnetic field of Kurt Hummel that had drawn him in, and he'd been forced to rotate around the  
bright burning star like a planet. His world had been Kurt and he never wanted to be released  
again.  
      
He pressed kiss after kiss tasting deeper and deeper into that soft beautiful wetness. He heard  
Kurt gasp for breath, and the high sounds that came from him made Dave want to beat his own  
chest like a damned cave man. He'd done that, this was his! He pressed his hands down that  
smooth expanse of chest, teasing at the perky pink little nipples with glee. He pressed down to  
the slight swell of his hips and felt Kurt's body under him jolt. The pale brown eyes that had been  
watching his hand flicked back up to Kurt's face. He had never been very good about reading  
Kurt's emotions correctly. In High School, he had a million different theories for what a single  
look might mean. This one was clear, nervousness.

What was there to look that frightened over? He'd been tied down and fucked raw... maybe that  
was it. He was worried Dave would be rough again. Dave lightened his touch, petting those  
pretty hips. "You're so gorgeous. Just beautiful and perfect and..."

Kurt shifted again, letting out an irritated whine. "Planning on gilding that pedestal?"

"What is your problem?"

"I'm not a piece of art."

"No..." his thin arched eyebrows drew together, "but you are beautiful. Don't you like being  
praised?"

"I'm here to be fucked. "  
      
"Okay, what the fuck?" He growled at the man. Dave had to be going mad, or maybe Kurt was.  
"What is your problem? I'm trying to... Look I want to make this good and you.... You were so  
into it a moment ago."

Kurt looked away. Dave didn't know what he was supposed to do. He didn't know what Kurt  
wanted. "I'll do what you want Kurt. I promise I'm not going to be mean or anything." He felt like  
he was wading through sand, the weight of trying to understand Kurt Hummel crushing him. So  
much for this being different than High School. He sighed deeply and tried to figure this out. He  
shifted back, letting Kurt back over him. He pulled Kurt to straddle him and held him there.  
"You're in control here Hummel."

"Of course I am. I'm always in control." His voice was trembling. Dave petted his thighs, trying  
to calm Kurt, wondering why he was so skittish. "I'm always in control but I was giving it to  
you."  
      
"And being bitchy about it."

"I can leave."

"Then leave, Fancy," he grunted, defeated by the irritating man, who was giving him mixed signals of fucking doom.

"What did you call me?!" Dave never realized how much he missed that shrill little sound. His  
neglected hard-on throbbed.

"Fancy." He grinned wide waiting for the indignant sound.

"Don't you dare bring your meat-head insults into the bedchamber." Dave shuddered and rolled  
his hips up toward Kurt, rubbing the huge member along the pert ass and poking the small of his  
back. "How dare you get off on this!" Dave shuddered and thrust up again. "You dirty bastard."

Dave shifted and pulled up on Kurt's hips, lining him up waiting for that beautiful mouth to open  
again. Kurt's eyes seemed to spark with green when he realized what Dave wanted. "Fuck you  
Karofsky."

Dave surged into Kurt's wide abused entrance. A beautiful deep sound of pain and pleasure  
ripped from Kurt. "Oh fuck." Then he thrust again and bit hard on his own lip, his weeping,  
tortured cock happy in the heat and soft squeezing of Kurt's ass. "Need.... damn... more lube."

Dave groaned in irritation. How long would it be until he could get off? He huffed, realizing that  
the lube in Kurt, or at least at the outer edge, must have dried some. There should be lots of  
supplies in the drawer. He tugged it open, thankfully just barely able to reach it. He pulled out the  
first plastic bottle type thing and flipped the cap open. "Slide off for a second."

Kurt hissed as he moved, the rawness no longer overshadowed by the jolts of pleasure. He  
stopped Dave's hand from spreading any of the lube. "I'm not trying to be a bitch." Why was  
there more talking? His poor cock was nearly purple.

"Your indignant voice turns me on."

"That's a strange and highly specific kink."

"It's your fault."

"Flattering... " Kurt's hand nervously ghosted over his hair. Dave sighed and decided to deal with  
whatever this was.

"What's wrong? Look sex is supposed to be fun. You're all tense... "

"I... I'm just." It was strange to be able to actually watch Kurt's expressions move from vulnerable  
to defensive to angry to scared. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"You don't..." Who the hell could be disappointed? Well, other than the mixed signals. "I'm  
enjoying myself. So much that I think the fury is turning purple. Please can I fuck you now?"

"The fury?"

"What? Didn't you name yours? Never mind. Are you going to ride me or not because you'd look  
fucking awesome on me and I want to show you how much this makes me happy, alright?"

"Sure, Hamhock. I'll ride you."


	11. Chapter 11

"Sure, I'll ride you Hamhock."

Dave poured the lube into his hand and smeared it first over his pulsing manhood. Kurt pushed away the shudder through his body at the sight of Dave's eyes closing and the muscles of his huge neck shifting as a deep groan rumbled through the former jock's body. Kurt shifted, his eyes never leaving Dave, examining him for any falsehood. He wasn't a good lay, he knew it.. yet the way Dave's eyes only had a sliver of brown around his wide pupils told him differently. So he swallowed his fear and put on his confidence. He slowly eased himself down on the huge erection.

When he was blindfolded, the penetration had seemed to happen all at one. Now he was easing himself down, able to feel the enormity of the sensation half inch by agonizing half-inch. Given the noises and soft growls from the man under him, the agony was mutual. He eased himself down until his balls rested on the thick patch of curly seal-brown hair at Dave's pelvic bone. He stayed still, his ass throbbing from the previous drilling and the current intrusion. His eyes opened to see how the other man was handling this.

Dave's hands were clinging to the headboard for dear life. Kurt could see the bulge and stretch and shift of his muscles. Those gorgeous brown eyes were shut tight, wrinkled at the sides. Kurt reached out, his fingers softly petting his cheek, tracing the little beauty marks down to his jawline. The muscles jumped and those eyes opened. Kurt bit at his lower lip, and the whimper that tore through the large man undid him. He made that happen, not his image, or his perfect idea of him. He finally, mercifully moved. He watched every shock of desire, every expressive need. The countertenor groaned deeply as Dave's hips rolled toward him in response.

Kurt braced his hands on Dave's stomach, and all those muscles felt so good tensing and shifting under his hands. He pressed into them as he raised himself up halfway and then let himself fall back down. He gained a hitch of Dave's breath and an incomprehensible string of harsh consonants and long vowels. He thought he heard his name in there a few times. He was able to be a little detached, his first orgasm having rocked through him a short time ago and his second only in it's early stages. Unlike Dave who was walking the knife's edge of pleasure and pain, Kurt was getting to enjoy the fullness of Dave's length in him and the delicious reaction of Dave's body to him. He raised himself again.

Kurt felt powerful, immensely powerful stringing Dave out on pleasure. He lifted and fell, creating a vulgar slap of wet skin each time they connected. He shifted his angle pressing himself a little closer so he could feel the drag of Karofsky's blunt tip against his prostate. The pleasure crashed through him as he let his mouth make a high, needy sound that was almost immediately echoed by Dave's deep rumble.

Suddenly his hand slipped off the sweat soaked abs and he landed against Dave's chest. As if he had timed it, Dave's grip on the headboard was gone and those thick arms wrapped their strength and sinew around his smaller body. "You... alright?" He could hear the panting and struggle Dave had in stopping to check on his fallen lover. Kurt couldn't stop the soft little smile. Kurt couldn't say if he would have had the presence of mind to stop in the same position.

"Keep going. I'm good." Kurt knew he was whimpering, but there wasn't any other choice, as the thickness was almost out of him and leaving him empty.

Dave surged up, those big feet planting in the bed as suddenly Kurt was filled, Dave's pelvis and Kurt's tail bone striking together in the best sort of passion. One of those huge hands wrapped around his hip. controlling the countertenor's movements. Every thrust was a strike of pure pleasure. He whimpered, moaned and made all sorts of inelegant, embarrassing noises. Dave was making the same. Kurt's eyes opened to find them instantly matched by Dave's wide, adoring, wonder and lust filled eyes. Kurt's hands cupped those round cheeks and kissed the man who made him feel like the most beautiful cherished man in the world. The kiss was chaste, a strange contrast to the pulsing rhythm of the former jock's cock in his ass, but a welcome one. The kiss was full of all the things he wanted, joy and caring, pleasure and respect. Dave didn't try to force his tongue in, or deepen the kiss. It caught the sound of the high whimper of joy as Dave jolted, heat of his passion spreading into Kurt.

Kurt clung tight, and his own sob of pleasure when he followed Dave a moment later was taken by Dave's lips. He panted, overwhelmed by the sensation of joy, of a second release and of contentment. The kiss broke and he laid his head onto Dave's chest. The words breathed out from the large man's body weren't for him to hear, or even meant for this plane of existence, but they could exist here in this floating ephemeral state between life and death, spirituality and the banality. "I will always love you."


	12. Chapter 12

"I will always love you."

Dave's words floated through his mind. They danced and glittered and wrapped him in warm, loving, hopeful feelings in the warmth of their skin pressed together, and their joint after-glow. Unfortunately, this could only last so long.The up and down of Dave's chest helped calm the edges of panic slipping through his awareness. It was one thing to have a one-night stand. He was expecting a no-strings night to release passion. This was so much deeper. He closed his eyes and listened to the 'ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum' of Dave's heart, wondering if he could make the leap.

He knew nothing about this man other then their mutual horrible past, that he was an excellent lover, and he apparently was in love..... What kind of relationship could that possibly make? He couldn't be responsible for Dave's heart, he barely understood his own. He couldn't leap. He'd crashed too many times with no one there to catch him. No... this was not the beginning of a new and sudden relationship. This was one night, a strange joke of fate, and nothing more. He had to end this.

Kurt pushed himself up, first things first. He needed to get clean, wash, fix the disgrace that was his hair, and finally get his look back to normal. Kurt made the mistake of looking into Dave's eyes. Such sadness reflected back at him, that for a moment, he could feel the tears that were threatening to roll down reflected in his own. He wished Dave would stop this madness. They weren't long lost lovers pulled together by a string of fate. Instead of telling the other man all of these things he slid, with all the grace being naked and thoroughly sexed afforded him, off of the thick torso to walk the distance to the en suite bathroom. He shut the door with a decided hand.

David listened to the sputtering downpour from the bathroom, and let the tears fall. This was it. One chance to prove to Kurt he could be enough and he'd fucked it up. He opened his mouth and stupid rolled out, it was the story of his high-school life whenever the beautiful Kurt Hummel sauntered on in. He took fast breaths, trying to stop the damned tears. He would not be weak like this. He'd already had more then he'd ever hoped for.

The effort it took to roll over and move away from the spot where Kurt had cuddled into his chest was monumental. Finally, he found himself sitting up at the edge of the bed. At least now he could check off 'slept with high-school crush',  'confessed eternal love after sex' and 'rejected after confession of love' off his 'awkward-moments-in-my-life' list. Scratch that. 'Made love to the man who changed his life' was going on the 'best-moments-of-my-life' list. Too bad it was over now.

His boxers were pulled on, his pants followed that. He made no move to clean or press away the drying semen on his chest. It was proof, a little bit of evidence that he could keep. All of his clothing was in the same pile, and as he put each item on, he knew no evidence of his presence would remain. Kurt was already washing it away, like it didn't matter, like he didn't matter. He never had mattered, not to perfect, beautiful, ice queen Kurt. He shouldn't feel like this!

This wasn't even Freckles. At least he'd spent months in that man's arms, learning each curve and touch of his body. He'd thought he had a chance. This time... one night... not even a full night, and he was thinking it could be happily ever after. He was fucking hopeless. He pulled on his shirt, surprised in a numb sort of way that it wasn't sticking to his stomach. He must have been lost in his head for some time.

He tucked his arms into his overlarge jacket, checking that his wallet and keys were still in place. He took one last look at the rumpled sheets, the evidence of their time together. He knew he could never come back, not with these memories in his head. Dave sighed deeply, finally turning toward the door.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" That high pitched annoyed voice demanded.

"I.....um...."

"That's it? You expect to just walk out of here after what you've done?" Kurt's voice was reaching a pitch only dogs could hear.

"I... um...."

"This room is paid up for two more hours and while I might not have the turn around time I did in college, you can believe I'm man enough to go for at least another two rounds."

"I... um...."

"Thrilling, Karofsky, your elocution astounds me."

"This isn't just a one time thing Hummel. I'm not going to let you.... " Dave's cheeks flush as he looks down at his feet , "break my heart."

"It's mine to break now.... You gave it to me," Kurt offers with a challenging eyebrow, but his hand holding the fluffy white towel around his waist trembles. "I haven't decided what to do with it. For now, I'm keeping it."

"I come with that heart, me and dates with me, and life outside of this room. Can you handle that....Fancy?"

"I can handle anything. Especially you, Hamhock. Now get out of that hideous clothing. We'll go shopping and re-dress you to my standards after I get a round in that hot muscled ass of yours."

Dave didn't think he'd ever get the huge grin off his face. "Anything for you."

~End~


End file.
